However, he did not stop to consider the reason of his altered mood, ... he followed the monks into chapel with an air of manly grace and quiet reverence that became him much better than the offensive and defensive demeanor he had erewhile chosen to assume in the same prayer-hallowed place,--he listened to the impressive ceremonial from beginning to end without the least fatigue or impatience,--and though when the brethren knelt, he could not humble himself so far as to kneel also, he still made a slight concession to appearances by sitting down and keeping his head in a bent posture--"out of respect for the good intentions of these worthy men," as he told himself, to silence the inner conflict of his own opposing and contradictory sensations. The service concluded, he waited as before to see the monks pass out, and was smitten with a sudden surprise, compunction, and regret, when Heliobas, who walked last as usual, paused where he stood, and confronted him, saying: "I will bid you farewell here, my friend! ... I have many things to do this evening, and it is best I should see you no more before your departure." "Why?" asked Alwyn astonished--"I had hoped for another conversation with you." "To what purpose!" inquired Heliobas mildly. "That I should assert ... and you deny ... facts that God Himself will prove in His own way and at His own appointed time? Nay, we should do no good by further arguments." "But," stammered Alwyn hastily, flushing hotly as he spoke, "you give me no chance to thank you ... to express my gratitude."